Taste the Rainbow
by Holly Maura
Summary: Peter/Caspian. Seven colours, seven memories mapping out their relationship.


Taste the Rainbow

**Love Me **_**Red**_

Everyone had gone to sleep, and the two boys were left alone together, outing the torches, crimson light pushing shadows from their figures. Caspian put out the last torch, sending Peter's heart on a manic race, as darkness surrounded them. Peter feared the unknown and while the black abyss surrounded him, he felt powerless.

"I'm afraid." he stated quietly, before feeling a kiss meet his lips.

"Don't be." Caspian mumbled, against the blonde's mouth.

And Peter _wasn't_ frightened any more, because Caspian was so fully there in front of him. Peter didn't have to worry about the White Witch or the Telemarines, because Caspian was living, and breathing beneath his fingers, and that was all that really mattered.

**Hug Me **_**Orange**_

"What if I can't do it?"

"Hey!" Caspian reprimanded. "Look at me, Peter. Look. At. Me."

Peter clenched his jaw, pain throbbing through his shoulder.

"I believe with every fiber of my being that you will win this fight, Peter. Do you know why?"

Peter stared at him, irked. He wasn't in the mood to be lectured.

"Because good **always** defeats evil Peter, and you are a _much_ better man than Miraz." Caspian inclined his head slightly, turning Peter's face to his. "¿Comprende, mi amor?"

Peter bit his lip indecisively, and at that precise moment, Caspian very much wanted to lean in, and kiss him, and suck his troubles away.  
But he couldn't, because hundreds of people were watching, and it just wasn't proper. So Caspian wrapped his arms around Peter in a hug, and no one would have ever guessed that they stole kisses in the dark, or made love in the ruins of Cair Paravel.

**Colour Me **_**Yellow**_

Caspian couldn't help but notice Peter's beautiful golden hair, as it was spread out over his thighs, contrasting extraordinarily with the dark pants he was wearing.

"What are you thinking about?" Peter asked, looking up at Caspian.

His tanned skin was luminous in the setting sun, his eyes glinting mischievously. They were "going over war strategies" alone in the forest. Susan had packed them a picnic.

"Nothing, really." Caspian leaned back on his hands, soaking in the sunlight.

"Want to know what _I'm_ thinking about?" Peter inquired.

Caspian looked at him, in reply, smiling, as the corners of his eyes wrinkled preciously.

"The top five things I love about you." Peter answered.

"Really?" Caspian's dark eyebrows pulled up theatrically. "What do you have so far?"

"Hmm…" Peter started. "One… The way you smile. Your eyes glow, and then the corners fold like accordians. It is _quite_ attractive…Two… how sensitive you are." Peter stroked the inside of Caspian's thigh, causing his body to jolt involuntarily. Peter snickered. "Three…" he stared at a yellow butterfly, fluttering through the air, in thought. "The way you say my name."

"Peter?" Caspian wondered aloud in curiosity.

"Yes." Peter answered rolling over, and crouching on his hands and knees. "Peeeeeter." He drawled, failing to imitate Caspian's Spanish accent. Peter shook his hair, and bared his teeth, trying to give the appearance of a wild animal. "Four…" he crawled over to Caspian, kissing him deeply. "How you let me do _that_."

Caspian laughed good-heartedly. "I love you, Peter."

"Yes." Peter cheered quietly, kissing Caspian lightly once again. "You are correct. Number five. Because you love me at all."

**Turn Me **_**Green**_

Peter looked away as Susan assisted Caspian in improving his archery skills. He tried to focus on his swordfight with Edmund, but couldn't help glancing up the few feet of grass to Susan – in her emerald dress – filling the empty crevices of Caspian's body, the cavities that only Peter would ever properly fit. It was the way her chest was pressed against his back, and the way her arms snaked along with his, faces cheek to cheek. They were much, _much_ too close.

Peter let envy envelope him, becoming a monster, and slashing at Edmund uncontrollably. Luckily his younger brother matched his skill, and guarded his life without trouble.

"Christ Peter!" Edmund exclaimed. "No need to kill me or anything."

But Peter wondered if there was, because he wasn't sure if he'd ever be entirely satisfied, unless he had Caspian all to his self.

**Hold Me **_**Blue**_

Over half their soldiers were gone, stuck in Miraz's castle, death impending.

Peter had snapped at Caspian, and he was sorry.

Caspian had screwed up, but he was still getting there. His head was spinning like a dreidel during Hanukkah season, and Peter's loud sobs did not help.

He cried since innocent blood was lost because of him, and his ridiculous over-confidence, and fault-filled plan. He cried because now the Narnians had even less of a chance of freedom. And he cried because Caspian just sat there, staring.

"Oh God, please forgive me," Peter wept. Caspian remained unfazed.

Peter grabbed Caspian's cold hands, holding it in his. "I'm sorry C-Caspian. What I s-s-said to you was un-uncalled for."

Caspian was unresponsive, except for holding Peter's hand in an iron grip. Peter felt his fingers go numb, but he didn't say anything, because Caspian was giving him something. And Peter hoped with all his heart, that if he held on long enough, that his whole body would become numb, so he would never be forced to feel a thing again.

**Touch Me **_**Violet**_

"No good will come out of this." Aslan had said. "Leave Caspian alone." The lion then shook back his mane in authority, and it glittered blindingly in the sun. "It's wrong, what you're doing to him."

And Peter nodded, and tried to understand. He tried to act like he was mature, and he could deal with his feelings.

**But he couldn't. **

And on his last night, he couldn't help but sneak into Caspian's room, and crumble on his sheets, in a hot, hot mess.

"Promise me you won't leave me," Caspian grunted his hair in his face as he hovered over the blonde boy. "Promise me you'll stay."

Peter's thoughts were incoherent, as if someone has shaken his brain like a snow globe. All he could feel was the orgasmic tingling in every one of his nerve endings. He moaned in pleasure, his body jerking, still pinned to Caspian. He just wanted the gorgeous, currently undressed, boy to shut up, and kiss him. The bribing and the games were no fun – not for him at least.

"Peter, I'm waiting," Caspian growled sexily.

Peter's back arched like a rainbow, as he answered, "Yes! Oh _yes_!"

"What was that Peter?" Caspian grinned, placing a series of kisses down Peter's neck.

Peter's chest wildly heaved under him. "I promise I'll stay. I'll stay with you _forever_." he gasped. "God Caspian, I. Love. You. I'll love you forever. I_ promise._" Peter sucked in a breath before adding in a seductive whisper. "Please, though, _don't _stop."

So they made love, like some adulterated fairytale, each moan echoing off the stone walls and back to them.

Peter's love for Caspian seemed to grow, larger than he had ever thought possible. That one night had been better than any kiss or kind word, because Caspian knew how to touch Peter in certain ways that made him feel - _oh _- like he was **alive **again_. _

**Leave Me**_**Indigo**_

Peter's emotions surged as Susan kissed Caspian. Hadn't he told her to stay away after the archery incident? And what about that smile on his lover's face? Was it real, or a show?

Who had spent last night warming Caspian's bed sheets? Surely not Susan. Yet she got to kiss him, because that's how it was. And as a king, you had to conduct yourself in an orderly manner – and Peter knew that last night was in _no way _orderly.

So he felt hatred. He hated Susan for kissing Caspian, and Caspian for kissing her back. He hated that Aslan had told him his love for the new king was wrong, and that everyone else wouldn't be able to accept it if Caspian had been locking lips with Peter, rather than his sister. He hated that he had to leave, whereas Edmund and Lucy could come back. Most of all, he hated the ripping he felt as his heart tore.

For revenge, Peter turned his back on Narnia, those quietly uttered promises, and his heart – leaving the king that broke it in a wave of indigo mystery. A wave that would slowly suffocate him up till his dying day.


End file.
